


Sounding Heartbeats, Intimidations

by cydonic



Category: Glee
Genre: Blackmail, F/F, F/M, Hate Sex, Threats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 09:11:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cydonic/pseuds/cydonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are you okay, Sannie?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

"Are you okay,  _Sannie_?" Sebastian purred into her ear, one hand passed low over her midriff, the other up her chest, fingers curling around the tanned column of her neck.

Each breath she took pressed her throat out against his filthy hand. They were alone now, the cello players having left long ago. The only audience they had was the chairs, some fallen, some still standing. "Fine." She ground out, swallowing and trying to ignore the pressure of his hand tightening.

"Wrong answer." Sebastian said, and she could feel his smirk as his other hand gripped her bare thigh hard enough to leave bruises.

Again, Santana opened her mouth to reply, but a curse died on her tongue when he choked her. "Make a wise move, Lopez."

Tears welled up in her eyes against her will. The pressure on her throat faded but did not go entirely. Santana took in a shuddering breath, clenching her eyes shut. By her sides her hands were balled into tight, white-knuckled fists. "I don't know." She whispered. It echoed in the empty room.

"Good girl." Sebastian crooned. His breath drifted across her shoulder, goosebumps popping up in its wake despite the warmth. Santana obviously shuddered in his grasp, but was unable to move. Though she would not tell anyone, Santana was more bark than bite. She would fight - and fight fiercely - when she had to, but intimidation was her prime method of defense.

Intimidating Sebastian just didn't work. He smirked and laughed in her face; he called her bluff every single time.

The hand on her thigh breezed over her underwear beneath the tight black dress she wore. It was not new territory, not for boy or girl. Santana didn't have enough fingers to count how many had slipped up there, chased lines along her ribs, fondled the artificially perfect chest she bore proudly. But these left her sick.

Soon they wrapped around the recorder taped there, just below the underwire signalling the start of her bra. "What's this?" Sebastian breathed. His fingers pulled roughly at the bindings keeping the small object in place, yanking it out. "What _is_  this, Sannie?"

To say that Santana had no bite at all was a lie. She stomped down hard on his foot, causing Sebastian to flinch. "I don't know." She snarled, turning, free of his grasp. With haste she put between him and her one of the chairs, holding onto the high back as if it were a shield.

Sebastian glanced over the object in his hands, nodding slowly, an almost appreciative smile appearing on his face. "I know all about you." He began with an odd non-sequitur, putting Santana even more on edge. "Little Miss  _Lima Heights_. Your record isn't stellar. At this rate your bimbo girlfriend will be out of this town before you are." Santana's grip visibly tightened against the finely upholstered seat in her grasp. "Coming here, recording me, Sannie... my father is an attorney. The things I could do to your personal record." He shook his head, laughing, and dropped the recorder to the floor. The polished surface of his dress shoes glinted under the lights as he twisted his heel over the tiny device, destroying it.

"So what the fuck do you want with me?" Santana asked, put more on edge by Sebastian than anyone before. She couldn't put a finger on what it was - what about him made her feel so anxious, so nervous. It could perhaps be that he had openly attacked Kurt earlier, or even that in his eyes there  _was_  no sympathy. There was cruelty - amusement and malice. Nothing to suggest that he cared about her at all, not even on a fundamental, human level.

For a second he was conflicted. His jaw worked, the muscles pulled tight. He opened his mouth to speak but made no more than a syllable before stopping and collecting himself. "My parents - my father, in particular - have high hopes for me. High hopes that do not involve..." Sebastian fell into an awkward silence, once more struggling with himself to find the words. He stepped forward, grabbing Santana's wrists with a speed she was helpless to avoid. "Boyfriends. Or anything of that sort."

Santana could almost relate. They were too alike. She could sense the self-loathing, the terror at finding oneself without family or friend to rely on. All at once her thoughts returned to her  _Abuela_ , and those tears from earlier, from his hand cutting off her breathing, they came right back. These tears did not come from Sebastian's hand, though. They came from the memory of a night gone so wrong, a relationship tarnished forever.

They'd both built these shields, these walls. Santana knew that they were both too far gone to go back.

Sometimes you start out with a bluff, you deceive and you lie and you pretend and before you have a chance to think about who you  _really_  are that person is gone.

You become your lie.

Inside Santana's pride was contending with herself, her sense of self-preservation. Sebastian had his hands on her again before she could find the words to calm him. "You want to get out of your pathetic redneck town. I get that." Her wrists were locked in one of his hands, the digits on the other loosening his tie and pulling it over his neck. "Do what I say or the best place you'll wind up is a correctional facility."

By now she should know not to underestimate him. Sebastian kicked away the chair separating them, pulling her arms sharp behind her back and driving a knee into the small of her back. Immediately she crumbles to the ground with a cry. Instinctively Santana moves her hands to stop her face impacting with the ground, but they're being bound with the Dalton uniform tie and her cheek hits the hardwood with a resounding smack.

"Let me go!" Santana cries, her voice returning to her after so long. It bounces off the walls, and she wonders just what would happen if she was found there by anyone else. Would Sebastian's father pay them off? Take them to court?

Would they even help her?

"Sannie, my dear, I don't want this as much as you don't." Sebastian intoned. Santana felt blood roll along the contour of her lip to pool on the ground beneath her cheek. Despite his admission, Sebastian touches her almost reverently.

Looking at her back, maybe, he doesn't have to accept her breasts pressed hard against the ground. And without facing him she can close her eyes and pretend that he's Brittany, though his fingers are not as polished, and they clearly don't know their way.

He pulls her jacket back by the collar, and Santana swears her shoulders almost pop out of place. She sobs, the sudden surrender of her body catching her by surprise. For too long Santana had been fighting to be strong, put up a tough front. Now she's just a little girl crying on the floor.

Sebastian wastes no time. He hikes her dress up just under her chest, runs his hands over her toned stomach. They both lie there, they both imagine the phantoms of other fingers and other bodies.

"Do you like this?" His voice is so quiet, Santana isn't paying attention and she probably drowns it out with her pathetic whimpers. "I said do you like this, you  _whore_?" Sebastian snarls now, yanking hard on the jacket to make her cry out.

"No." Santana stays her ground as best she can, gritting her teeth against the pressure.

"I thought I taught you your lesson before." Sebastian is calm and it infuriates her. All too soon his hand is wrapped around her neck again, pulling her head back. Santana isn't even able to cry anymore, the sounds cutting off to a distressed gargling in her throat. "Say it."

Santana honestly doesn't know what to say, and she's put off by his affinity with their song from earlier. "I don't know." She manages.

Slowly, to prolong her suffering, her head is lowered. Santana takes in a large gulp of air, but the hand does not leave her. She can distinctly hear a fly being lowered and then that hand is removing her underwear down to her knees. Her throat is dry yet she can't stop crying - she chokes, dry retches, and spits out blood on the floor.

"You know, I always wondered how smooth this criminal was if he was leaving blood stains on the carpet." Sebastian said, disconcertingly. "That's the good thing about wood flooring. No stains." It's such a simple sentence that he could be simply discussing the choice of flooring under any other circumstance, the disadvantages of carpet. Or, even, the illogical point of old song lyrics. This could just be a normal conversation, and Santana really wished it was. When it came to Sebastian, she loathed him, but she'd much rather be conversing with him than letting him touch her so.

Without warning he presses into her body. Santana screams now, high but cut off with his hand clenching around her throat. Her body is not designed for this. Whatever sick charade Sebastian is playing, he isn't at all interested in the parts of her that are feminine. In hindsight she shouldn't have expected him to come this far and forget that her unique genitalia disgusts him as much as his manhood does her.

It's dry and rough. He rides her with little concern for her body, and no relief comes from the lubrication of blood. Santana's throat is assaulted as her body is. She aches to cry with every fiber of her being, unable to hold back against the pain and horror of her defilement, but his hand doesn't stray.

It's a constant reminder of how much power he has over her. That hand might as well be the attorney, taking her to court for some made-up felony that Santana  _knows_  her family can't afford to fight. Not against a state attorney. It's his body over her, something she's tuned out by now, the ragged, awful thrusts. It's him holding her future over her as if it brings him such great amusement and it probably does.

It's lying there knowing that you're both too alike and that's what hurts most.

As he reaches his peak the hand around her throat stops her breathing entirely. She kicks out her legs in a futile attempt to get him to stop, but it's not working. She tries to break free but he's weighed her down and there's nothing she can do but let the white slowly eat away at the corners of her vision.

Santana may have passed out. When she awakens, coughing hard, he is off her. Her arms are free, numb from their bindings but mobile. His tie sits like the perfect noose around his neck and she thinks of the satisfaction she would gain from drawing it tight and watching his own eyes fall shut. His mouth open on wordless cries and pleas, driven down to his knees and begging.

"You disgust me." Sebastian grabs her arms and yanks her roughly to her feet. They aren't prepared to hold her up and she stumbles. He acts as if he does her a charity by catching her abused body.

Sebastian shakes his head as though dealing with a child. With rough hands he returns her jacket to her shoulders proper, her panties up to hide her shame and the dress down to maintain her modesty - or what modesty remained. Sebastian wipes the back of his hand across her chin, and when he pulls back the fair skin is red. He wipes it off on her jacket.

Outside it is dark and they are able to check themselves against a window, now reflective. Sebastian looks ready to go to school, clothes uncreased by their activities. Santana's eyes are red and puffy, but no one will know outside in the dark. She teeters on her tired legs, but does not outwardly appear how disgusted she is inside.

"I'm going to Harvard Law next year. Play along with this until summer, I'll dump your miserable ass, and we'll see if I can get you a scholarship to anywhere half-decent." Sebastian digs around in his blazer pocket for one second before retrieving Santana's phone. "My number is in there."

She takes it back and pockets it, mind too consumed with the preceding events to care about his pickpocketing. Sebastian takes quick, efficient strides, and is by the door when Santana looks up. "How do I know you're not going to screw me over?" She croaks, her throat parched and sore and likely bruising by now.

Sebastian smirks as if she's played right into his hands. "I said I'd make a girl cry before and I did. I'm a man of my word." And right then Santana realises that she has.


	2. two

Slowly Santana heads home. Her body is sore and the tears have dried up on her cheeks leaving her with an uncomfortably tight feeling. On instinct her feet take her towards Brittany's house, where there will be someone to care for her - someone who loves her and wants her to be safe. But then, abruptly, she changes her mind. Santana can't bring Brittany into this. The safest place for the blonde to be is completely out of the loop, and that's how Santana plans on keeping it. Luckily for her, Brittany is not the sharpest tool in the shed. She might notice something is wrong and be concerned, but Santana knows she can placate the girl with simple words.

So instead she walks home, the path as well-known in her mind as the one to Brittany's. It's a long, long walk - initially Santana caught a bus to their meeting, but they'd all stopped running over an hour ago. She either called her parents to come get her, who would moan and complain being dragged out of their nice, warm house, or she walked.

Walking was the best choice.

Whilst she walked, Santana thought. As she kept moving, the pain that caused her to limp simply disappeared into the background. She would get nowhere feeling sorry for herself and indulging the pain. She was Santana Lopez. She'd held a handstand for five straight minutes simply because Coach Sylvester had said she couldn't, blood rushing to her head but not clouding her stubborn, determined nature. She'd gotten herself suspended in grade school on several occasions, and they were never because she'd just decided to be bad. If another student told her she couldn't do this or couldn't do that, told her she punched like a girl, well... she was going to prove them wrong.

Sebastian might have taken the upper-hand, but that meant nothing. Santana could play just as dirty as he could, and she was not going to pull any punches.

Outside her home she cleaned herself up. She ran a hand beneath her mouth, cleaning up the few drops of blood that had dribbled out before the wound clotted. Her dress was still a little creased, but it looked more to be from walking than from the actual incident. A delicate finger was run under each eye, cleaning up any make-up smudges, and Santana finished by tousling her hair.

Santana Lopez would not break and be Sebastian's pawn. She was going to fight tooth and nail and make it  _damned_  hard for him. He would not buy her off - he would not own her. She would play by his rules, yes, and get just what she wanted - what she deserved. A ticket out of the hellhole that was Lima, Ohio.

But if Sebastian Smythe thought it was going to be easy, he had another thing coming.

–––

By the time morning dawns, Santana can easily forget all that happened the night before. The pain is nothing - Sue put her through more strenuous exercise than Sebastian did, and she thinks on this with a smirk as she prepares for the day. A Saturday, and her only plans are a coffee date later in the day. Initially it was to share with the Glee kids (the ones she likes, that is) her discoveries about Sebastian. She never really cared about Blaine - he was annoying and certainly needed to get a clue about wearing pants correctly - but the chance for some subterfuge was not one Santana could let pass her by. Now she had nothing to show them, but she had never outright stated she  _would_  have something, so no big deal.

It was only once Santana had eaten and showered that she checked her phone. Brittany had left three messages - one asking what she was up to, one saying good night, and then another good morning. Santana couldn't help but smile at the cute messages from her girlfriend, and replied with an apology for the past night.

Britt usually didn't stir until midday on the weekends, so Santana wasn't expecting a reply so quick. Still, as she began curling her lashes, her phone vibrated on the counter. Santana finished what she was doing before picking it up and checking, though the name and image did not meet her expectations.  _Sebastian_  filled in the space where  _Britt_ should be, and Santana felt her bad mood return.

_I suppose I'll be seeing you at the Lima Bean, darling._

A scowl appeared on her face, and Santana focused on finishing her make-up routine before replying. By the time she swept the final swath of blush across her cheek, her expression had changed to a smirk.

_Of course, sweetheart. Wouldn't dream of missing it._

She even included a small, animated heart at the end, putting her phone away with a satisfied flourish.

Santana didn't have a plan, but Sebastian promised her nothing less than a very, very exciting game. That was enough to put her in high spirits, but Santana decided that she would spend some time shopping before it was time for the coffee date. Nothing put her in a better mood than new shoes.

–––

Shopping alone didn't bother Santana, and she was able to amuse herself for a few hours in the mall. No matter how often she went, she could always dedicate a good chunk of her weekend to the great sport of shopping: trying things on, haggling, debating, and eventually just putting it on the card.

By the time Brittany was conscious and replying to her, Santana was already headed to the coffee shop to meet people. Despite her sluggishness when it came to mornings, Brittany's wardrobe possessed the odd ability to make any combination of clothing and accessories she put together look good. It only really worked for her, and it really helped her get out of the house and to appointments on time.

Despite waking up late, Santana and Brittany were alone in The Lima Bean at first. They embraced, and this sudden, heavy dread settled in Santana's stomach. She and Brittany had an odd relationship - girlfriends, she was rather certain, but not conventionally so. Simply the fact that they were lesbians threw normalcy out the window, according to the majority of Lima. On top of that, their relationship mostly consisted of physical affections. Not that Santana cared - she just wasn't the emotional sort. She did have her moments, and Brittany was always there for her. Brittany's heart was always in the right place, but sometimes her reassurances were lacking.

"What happened to your mouth?" Brittany asked, pressing one finger on the barely visible split that was there.

Santana kissed Brittany's finger. "I just bit it whilst I was eating." She explained, and Brittany nodded in understanding. The easiest thing about Britt was that she never questioned anything Santana said. Sometimes she was a little slow on the uptake, and it meant that delicate situations like the one Santana was in now went smoothly. Brittany wouldn't question her, Santana knew it.

They approached the counter and ordered their drinks - for Santana a plain coffee, for Brittany some iced chocolatey creation she coated in sprinkle and chocolate sauce. Santana couldn't help but smile at her choice of drink as she stirred one sugar in her own mug. "You're going to get cavities if you drink that." Santana commented offhandedly, linking her elbow with Brittany's as they found a group of seats big enough for all the Glee kids to sit at.

"I though cavities was what happened when the toothbrush police took a holiday." Brittany commented vaguely, staring off into space as Santana dragged her to her seat.

"No, I think it's from eating too much sugar." Santana corrected, but even then she wasn't entirely sure of the mechanics of it. Brittany looked disappointed in her drink for a moment before scooping up a spoonful of cream coated in  _everything_. "Anyway, Britt, I gotta talk to you." Now came the hard part - explaining to Brittany what was going on. Santana liked her - loved, she wasn't completely sure, but sometimes when she saw Britt smile it felt that way. And now she just had to tell her that she was pretending to see someone else?

"'bout what?" Brittany asked around a mouthful of whatever she'd made of her drink, which was originally something quite normal and now looked like rainbow vomit. She seemed to be enjoying it.

Santana stared down into the black depths of her drink. "You know Sebastian?" At Brittany's blank look, Santana elaborated - "Warbler, threw that slushie at Blaine the other night?" Slowly understanding dawned on her face, and she nodded enthusiastically. "Right, well... we got into a dare. That we'd date each other until college. And... and if I win, he'll pay for me to go anywhere in America." Santana was sure to speak slow and lightly, as if it were just a fun game. "We'll pretend like we're dating when we're together, so you can't tell anyone we're not, okay?"

Brittany was silent for a long time, assessing Santana with a look that made her fidget. "So long as I can hold your hand at school and we can get our sweet lady kisses when you're not with him... that's okay." There was hurt in her look - something that buried itself deep in Santana and wouldn't let her go and yeah it  _sucked_. But... in the end, they'd be together, right? And at a good, reputable college.

The ends justify the means.

And so they talk whilst they wait for the Glee clubbers to arrive, which they do - slowly. They filter in in fits and starts. Rachel shows up with Finn, Santana giving the former a vaguely approving smile and the latter a dirty glare. Kurt arrives, without Blaine, and Santana doesn't know how to look at him. Brittany's reaction to her news with Sebastian was the one she was dreading most, but after that? Kurt.

Even when Finn had outed her, Kurt had been there to support her. In a way, they were joined by that experience. Santana knew just how much Kurt hated Sebastian for what he'd done, and she desperately wanted to get Blaine his justice (not because Santana cared much for Blaine, but it was the right thing to do by Kurt and definitely exciting for her). Now all she had to say to him was that... she was in a relationship. With Sebastian.

They talk and it is civil, but they can all tell something is wrong. Santana is glad she'd spent so long building up that snarky exterior, or else someone might have dared to ask what was wrong. As it was they just continued chatting, Brittany involving her whenever she could.

Quinn shows up, last of all expected members, and sits on Santana's other side. On the couch they form the unholy trinity, and Quinn encourages Santana to loosen up - just a little. They chat about the week that was, about their plans for the Glee assignment Schuester has given them. Santana smiles and even laughs a little, elbows linked with Brittany on her right side.

And then Sebastian arrives. Santana is facing the door and spots him immediately. Quinn tenses minutely by her side and jabs Santana in the ribs to confirm the man's identity out of Dalton uniform. "Yeah." Santana answers vaguely. Sebastian grins at her, toothy and dangerous, going to order himself a drink.

Santana wastes no time. "I'll be right back." Finn doesn't understand, but Quinn's observation reaches Rachel and then Kurt. Kurt looks hurt, and mouths a  _'what?'_  to Santana, but she ignores him.

She follows Sebastian to the counter and confronts him. Her voice is dangerously low - intimate, in a way. They are not at risk of being overheard, and their close proximity might even help others to buy into the dating scenario. "Listen, Twink, I just submitted my application to Yale. Might want to get your daddy dearest to work on getting that accepted, full ride, and then we'll see about your dates." She cocks one hip out and corners him against the counter, but Sebastian just takes it all in with a serene smile.

"Why couldn't  _your_  daddy dearest pay up to get you out of here?" Sebastian asked, leaning against an empty spot on the counter. "Don't try to act dumb, Lopez. Whilst my initial expectations were jailbird, your dad just so happens to be a doctor. On those sorts of wages he could certainly put his lovely Sannie through whatever school she wanted. Why do you need me?"

Santana bristled, but did not let Sebastian tell he'd hit a sore spot. "My father could care less about me and more about whatever whore he's got on the side. Or, hell, even his golf stroke or whatever. I don't know  _or_  give a damn what he does or thinks of me. All I know is that he leaves me and my mum to do our own thing." That was all fine. Santana got the credit card whenever she asked, and never went lacking. The issue was that, while her father didn't care for her, her mother wanted to raise her to be a lavish housewife. College was definitely off the list for her Santana, who was better off marrying into a rich family and living a luxurious life than study or whatever else she had in mind. And a female partner? Heaven forbid. Sebastian, in fact, was perfect for her: well-off and male. Her mother would have a field day when they met.

Sebastian is amused, and Santana does her best to keep her smile from faltering even as thoughts of her family come to the fore. "It'll be done. So, what have you told blondie?"

It doesn't take Santana long to figure out he means Brittany. "She knows what's going on." At his scandalised look, she rolls her eyes. "Not like  _that_ , idiot. She just knows to play along. It'll be fine." Then Santana rolls her lower lip beneath her teeth. "I'm not going to stop seeing her when you're not around."

Sebastian contemplates this. "Good. That way when I tell my father you were just a whore, I won't be lying."

Santana huffs, rolls her eyes. "I know you're as gay as a handbag full of rainbows, but at least  _I_ don't have to make up a boyfriend to get my parents to like me." Although it's a lie, Santana shrugs her shoulders and casts a look back over her arm at Brittany. The blonde perks up when she makes eye contact, waving enthusiastically at her.

"Your parents don't even care about you, Lopez." Sebastian counters, their closeness meaning no one could overhear their conversation. From a distance it probably looks  _romantic_. Good. "You just play by the rules, and everything will work out fine. Come September I can forget I ever knew who you were." Sebastian moves to brush past her and return to the table, where the rest of the assembled Glee clubbers watch on in confusion.

Just before he passes, Santana leans in to whisper in his ear. "Just because I'm playing by the rules doesn't mean I can't play dirty,  _love_." She smiles and tosses her hair over her shoulder. "So what, tomorrow night? Dinner at yours?"

It's now or never. Kurt's draw drops visibly, and Rachel doesn't know where to keep her wide-eyed gaze. Sebastian freezes, without the coffee he had gone to order but not looking at all disappointed. The ball is in his court - they either play now, or not at all. "I'll pick you up at seven." He answers, and goes so far as to blow a kiss before disappearing out the door.

Game on.


End file.
